


A Moment Alone

by Potato_Huntress



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Masturbation, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 22:54:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28838859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Potato_Huntress/pseuds/Potato_Huntress
Summary: The tea and conversation Ingrid shared with Annette went fairly well. While the topic of their conversation was a bit of an awkward one at first, there were a few things she was tempted to try that they had discussed. Everything was so new to her, and the blonde knew for a fact that she wasn’t going to be a pro by any means on the first go. But the way Annie had described self-gratification, it made Ingrid curious as to whether it was in fact everything her friend said.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	A Moment Alone

The tea and conversation Ingrid shared with Annette went fairly well. While the topic of their conversation was a bit of an awkward one at first, there were a few things she was tempted to try that they had discussed. Everything was so new to her, and the blonde knew for a fact that she wasn’t going to be a pro by any means on the first go. But the way Annie had described self-gratification, it made Ingrid curious as to whether it was in fact everything her friend said. 

Making a few stops on the way back to her quarters, Ingrid took Annette up on finding Anna, and purchasing some sort of lubricant. When she asked the redheaded merchant for it, the blonde grew uneasy as a devilish grin curved their lips upward. What made it worse was that the woman was very loud about the purchase of such an intimate item. The poor knight managed to escape without further embarrassment, but she was concerned that the little urchin would say something to one of her friends. Was there merchant - purchaser confidentiality? If not, it would definitely need to be instituted. 

Finally reaching her room, she let out a sigh of relief, and entered, locking the door behind her, and barricading it with her chair in case someone should try barging in. A bit excessive? Maybe. At the time she made the purchase from Anna, she neglected to realise that the bottle was in a rather odd shape. It took Ingrid a moment to realise exactly what — or, rather whom, the bottle was in the shape of when she placed it on her nightstand. When she did finally figure out this mystery bottle, her cheeks began to burn hotter than a campfire. “She did not model this container after the Archbishop’s body! How obscene! And Catherine is okay with this? I can’t even speak with her about it without letting her know I bought something like this! Oh no. Oh Goddess. Anna had better not say anything to Catherine about this!” Ingrid’s panic went on for a few minutes, her eyes still glued to the bottle that was shaped like the holy woman’s build. The longer she stared, the more she realised how freakishly accurate and detailed it was. 

With a heavy sigh, she decided to read the back of the bottle, finding a warning label stuck on the side.  
Warning!  
Thank you for purchasing this sinful item from yours truly! If you bought this, it was either for yourself or for someone you love! Either way, you’re in for a treat and a wild ride! Be warned: a small amount goes a long way! Don’t say I didn’t warn ya!  
— Anna  
“What sort of warning is that?” She scrutinised with a shake of her head. Usually warnings tell you side effects, poisonous properties. But this was so… cryptic. 

Taking in a heavy sigh, she put the bottle back down, and instead pulled out the romance novel that Annette loaned her. She wasn’t normally into such books, but Annie did say that this one was particularly spicy, and Ingrid wasn’t going to deny herself the curiosity that plagued her mind over this novel.

Removing her boots and armour, she lay down on her bed in nothing but her underclothes. It felt so wrong to be stripped down to her unmentionables in the middle of the day; she normally only did so to sleep at night. Clearing her throat, she decided to grab the book, and opened it to the title page, flipping through the introduction to the first chapter. With a nervous inhale, she nodded. “Alright, Annette. You’d better be right.” 

**

To Ingrid’s surprise, the book was very pleasant. It had duels, chivalrous knights, and romance. Sure, the heroine was a bit difficult to stomach at times with how helpless she was, but the knight that came to her rescue constantly was definitely one of fantasy. Every time his name appeared on the page, she found her exposed flesh covered in goosebumps, accompanied by a warm stirring between her legs. With each chapter, there was an intense feeling that would come over her whenever the two protagonists were alone together. She wanted them to be together. For what felt like the first time in her existence, she wanted them to kiss. It was to the point of frustration when they wouldn’t share even a peck on the lips before parting. “I swear, if Zacharias doesn’t kiss her soon, she had better-- what am I thinking?!” Widening her eyes at her own thought process, the knight simply shook her head in frustration. Was this how Annette’s mind worked constantly? Filled with thoughts of kissing and other aspects of romance? Goddess, the poor girl. 

Continuing on from that page, it seemed she reached the portion that she and Annette had read together during their tea, and an immediate blush spread across her cheeks. The stalwart knight was finally professing his love for Caterina, and she for him. As she read, the writing only became steamier, and her cheeks became hotter, along with a horrible discomfort between her legs. It was nearly to the point of unbearable, but she continued to read on, shocked at what she would find herself doing next. Feeling something odd just over her groin, she realised that somehow, her hand had drifted down without her knowledge, and was rubbing at the crease between her closed legs. Swallowing hard, Ingrid spread them a bit, and set down the book on its current page. The blonde pressed her palm against her genitals with a soft exhale and sudden feeling of shock flowing down her spine. The more she rubbed, the stronger the feeling became. “How could such a simple action as this feel so wonderful? Goddess above!” 

She didn’t need the book anymore. She was busy imagining a scenario of her own. Relaxing her shoulders, she slid down flat on her back, her left knee arched and swaying slowly with the rhythm Ingrid discovered that worked best for her. Closing her eyes lightly, several faces appeared as her lustful fantasy began, and she was surprised by a couple of them. The first was Dorothea. Their chestnut coloured hair flowing behind them on a sandy beach that she had seen before in her dreams once. The songstress wore very revealing swimwear that made Ingrid’s loins burn even more than they already were. Before the knight could move toward them, Dorothea strode across the sand to her, taking the blonde in their arms, their ruby coloured lips pressing against her plain ones. From the moment their lips collided, she felt her hand increase its speed, making her leg muscles tense and her toes curl.

Before Ingrid could do anything else, the sexy woman’s figure had morphed into a different person. A much shorter one. As she continued to kiss them, her eyes opened slightly, and saw not the chestnut coloured locks that she was expecting, but soft, thick pumpkin coloured tresses. It was Annette. Where was her mind going with this? She had never thought of her friend in that way, and this was certainly a surprise. Ingrid swallowed hard, and held their more lithe form against hers, pressing the young woman against a palm tree trunk, her hands beginning to explore their way down the mage’s body to their thick rear, giving it a firm squeeze. Just when she thought this was who her mind was going to settle on, Annette disappeared, and a familiar voice came from behind her. When she turned to look at who it was, the knight’s jaw hung slightly when the man had green hair. 

Striding up the white, sandy beach toward her was a mostly nude Seteth. His chest appeared to be oiled and shining in the bright sunlight. His muscular form was not one she had thought about often, but now, it had taken over her thoughts. From the time it took him to reach her, she had plenty of time to determine what she would do. The shorts he was wearing seemed to be rather tight, causing his genitalia to bulge. With a deep blush, she ran through the white sands, and leapt into the man’s toned arms, her legs wrapping around his sturdy form, arms coiled around his neck in a tight grip to hold herself in place. When his hands moved down her waist to grasp at Ingrid’s rear, her lips pressed against his, finding his tongue forcing its way into her mouth. The further things got with the church official, the harsher her hand rubbed over her panties, wanting to be closer to her muff. She hadn’t realised how soaked she was becoming until this moment, and to find relief, she quickly stripped her briefs and threw them against the wall to land in her hamper. 

With her loins free, the cool air was licking at them harshly, providing one other force that was making her want more. Before she continued, Ingrid shot up straight, and reached for the bottle of lubricant on her dresser, and uncorked it unceremoniously. Her heart was racing so severely that her hands shook as she tipped the bottle slightly, getting a generous amount of the contents on her middle finger. Slamming the bottle back down onto the top of the dresser, she carefully moved her hand back to its position, this time, using her index and ring finger to spread her lower lips, inserting her middle finger. As she did, the knight began to thrust it in, her heart was in her throat, waiting for whatever would happen after applying the lubricant. It took a minute, but there was no mistaking it when the product took action.

Those feelings she would wake with in the mornings by surprise were now a thing of the past in comparison to this. This was being horny multiplied by one thousand. Ingrid couldn’t move her finger fast enough. “Damn! What the hell?!” The blonde thought, arching her back slightly and snapping her eyes closed to resume the fantasy she had created. This time upon her return, the tresses her fingers were tangled in weren’t green, but white. Who did she know that had white hair? It couldn’t possibly be Lysithea. How unheard of! Using her senses within the fantasy, she realised it was none other than the massive, towering, monstrous man that she had only recently forgiven: Dedue. 

Of all people, her mind shifted to Dedue, and it was confusing more than anything. As the Duscur man’s beefy arms held onto her, she felt something hard rub against her groin, only to realise that it was his throbbing member. With a heavy breath, she snapped her eyes closed in her fantasy once again, hoping that Dedue wasn’t the one that her mind had settled on.Upon slowly opening them, instead of the white hair of the man that was just holding her, it was a dark blue, a very dark blue. “Shit, this isn’t Felix, is it?” She gasped softly, pulling back from the kiss to find not Felix, but Glenn. What a relief. With a soft chuckle, Ingrid resumed the session with her ex-fiance, fingers removing the ribbon from his hair completely, dropping it to the sand below. 

Before she knew it, he was pressing her against the same tree which she was forcing Annie against, his hand untying the strings that held her swim top in place, allowing it to fall, revealing her heaving breasts. His strong, capable arms around her was nothing compared to the subtle grinding Glenn was now doing. Goddess, the burning between her legs was unquenchable. Her fingers were not doing it. Grabbing the pillow from behind, she positioned it between her legs, and began to hump it harshly, sitting up straight now. The room felt hot, she couldn’t handle it. Still humping the pillow, Ingrid took hold of her undershirt and bra and threw them off quickly. No matter how fast and hard she rode her pillow, the feeling seemed to become worse. “Goddess, fuck! Ah!” She shouted without restraint, leaning forward in an attempt to grind faster. 

The pillow was a nice touch, but she needed something inside as well. While her pearl was being stimulated, there was something missing, and she knew what it was. Looking around her room desperately for something she could use, Ingrid’s eyes fell on the hairbrush that belonged to her mother. “No. I am not… I’m not going to use that! My Granny used that before passing it on to her!” The knight bit her lip, eyes shaking in anticipation. What would they know? They were both gone, it’s technically hers… no. No way. Something else. As her eyes scanned over her belongings littered across the dresser beneath the window, her eyes fell on a dagger that was a gift to her from Glenn. “Wow. How convenient…” Ingrid let out a sharp exhale, and managed to cease her incessant humping long enough to grab it. The ornate hilt was thick and heavy. Could something like this truly fit inside? 

Ensuring that the sheath would not fall off during her flagrant misuse of this weapon, she sat back against the head of her bed, and spread her legs again. The strong, noxious scent of that lubricant filling her nose. It smelled of those flowers that grew on the Star Terrace — the ones that the Archbishop and Catherine wore in their hair. “Oh, Anna, you didn’t…” Ingrid chuckled lightly with a scoff at the idea that the merchant did such a thing to try and get closer to Catherine. With a heavy breath, Ingrid carefully inserted the ornate hilt, wincing as she did so. Biting her lower lip, she forced it in a little further, snapping her eyes shut again with a deep exhale. “Goddess, it… hurts.” The knight muttered under her breath, taking a moment to breathe before continuing. How could something so painful still feel so wonderful? With her eyes still closed, the blonde mustered the courage to finish inserting the handle, an audible gasp of both pain and delight escaping from her. “Ahh… !” 

Returning to the fantasy in her mind, Ingrid was still being pressed against the tree by Glenn. Any words he was saying were inaudible, but knowing him and how he was with her, they were likely fumbled but endearing. While he wasn’t good with words, he could certainly convey how he felt with his lance — and it seemed that extended to his sexual prowess in her imagination. It wasn’t long before they were no longer against the tropical trunk and down in the white coloured sands. The knight couldn’t help but laugh shortly as she had a glimpse of her former fiancé’s expression. It was one of embarrassment, but the love in his eyes was real. 

Running a hand through his hair, his muscular hand rested beneath her blonde locks, pressing his lips against hers fervently as his opposite hand carefully worked to spread Ingrid’s legs, running his thickened member along her quivering muff. Before she knew it, she was practically begging for him to insert himself, outside of her fantasy, her hand was gripping the dagger, carefully beginning to thrust it, further supporting his entry in her imagination. From the moment she began the gentle and slow hand motion, the blonde’s back began to arch, soft whimpers of pain escaping with the repeated action. In her mind, she was pressing her face into Glenn’s toned shoulder, but in reality, she was stuffing it into her soft down pillow in an attempt to muffle her cries of satisfaction. 

As the illusion progressed further, Ingrid found herself coming close to something, but not quite. His muscular form gripping her smaller frame as he repeatedly rammed his girth within her soaked walls. While it felt wonderful, she needed something extra. Adjusting her position on the bed, she moved face down onto her elbows, her face still pressing into her pillow. As she moved in reality, Glenn adjusted their position in her dream, matching this by gripping her toned hips from behind and propped the blonde up onto her knees, roughly forcing himself back inside, filling the woman once more. 

Managing to reach her other hand downward, she pressed a finger against her swollen pearl, coaxing a low, lustful, velvet timbre of enjoyment as she did so. With every thrust of the hilt and gentle press of her finger, the knight found herself closer to the boom that Annette had mentioned. She now understood why her ginger friend would refer to it as such. The buildup. The tension. The throbbing. The unquenchable thirst she had for more was becoming a distant past. The harder Glenn pounded and gripped her hips, the louder her lustful moaning became. She was growing afraid that her pillow wasn’t going to cut it — just as she had originally feared. 

“G-Goddess! Mmph!” With her words muffled, into the bedding, the knight became very aware of the heat, her heart rate rapidly increasing as if she were performing one of her more intense training sets. With her lips parted slightly, she felt something growing deep in her throat. She was going to shout something. The pressure was too great, and Ingrid finally succumbed to the heat of the moment, shouting her ex-fiancé’s name as loud as she possibly could. How embarrassing! The fireworks that occurred were overwhelming. No wonder Annette called it a boom. 

For several minutes after her climax, the young woman lay on her side until she was able to catch her breath. Removing the hilt from her muff, she groaned lightly at the pain she felt. She would most certainly be feeling that for a few days. With her neck drenched in sweat, she sat up straight, crossing her legs slowly. It took her a moment to realise that there was quite the mess to clean on both the sheets and between her legs. She would need to wait until nightfall to clean these things without the possibility of someone asking her why she was cleaning her sheets on a different day than usual. 

Beginning to gather up her sheets, she had a sudden urge. The very same one that she thought she had just quenched. With a pained expression, she released her sheets and other fabrics, and proceeded to undress herself for the second time. “I… suppose once more won’t hurt…”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
